


Angels Brought Me Here

by JamieBenn



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Kidnapping, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-03
Updated: 2013-01-03
Packaged: 2017-11-23 10:55:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,409
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/621322
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JamieBenn/pseuds/JamieBenn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I am Louis Tomlinson and it seems that angels have taken me. Send help.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Angels Brought Me Here

**Author's Note:**

> Uhm, this is a pretty crap story… but it is kind of what happens when I write without a story already thought up… which you would know if you’ve read some of my other one shots like ‘The Force’ (omg I still cant believe I wrote that). So yeah, I present – Angels Brought Me Here. Betaed by whoneveryawn on Tumblr :)

There were the green eyes of the boy ahead of me, his curly locks also. But what truly made this man attractive was not his looks but his voice.

It was a voice many people would come from miles over to hear. To hear the boy whom angels did bless. Angels who gave him voice only angels could have, and was that the fascinating part? No.

The fascinating attraction to the boy was not the voice but the lyrics he seemed to just scribble out onto a page and make millions out of. Even his hand seemed blessed by god. His lyrics were those of angels.

Some expect god’s voice to be gruff, deep and some expect his figure to be like an old man’s. They think that it should be since he had been with us since the dawn of time.

Yet it had only dawned on few people that our god may not even have a human-like figure. That perhaps we were just a piece of his artwork and were unlike any other creature he had seen before.

It seems that most people either don’t know the god they are praying to, or figure him just as an old man in white.

No one has ever pictured their god as a frog before, have they?

These are where I think that the more ancient cultures that worshipped animals as their gods had it more right than Christians.

What if our god was actually walking among us, or was doing so as an animal? What if we were all wrong?

So when I saw the boy, the man, I knew that he was indeed blessed by heaven. Everything told me to go to him, to stare at him as though he was my leader. Everything in my body told me to obey him, that he had the voice of god. The commands that god himself did command.

So the man stood, almost hovering over the crowd and he put his finger to his lips – a silent command for them to stop the words spilling out their mouths.

And so the room fell silent, and the silence wavering, until the boy on stage decided to speak to the masses ahead of him.

But rather than speak, the boy sung.

If words were to speak,  
Yet the message they conveyed was nil,  
If we were to sing,  
Would our stomachs sit still?

The room swayed with the deep, mellow sound of the boy’s voice and the sweet strumming of the guitar.

And it was trances that we were in. You could see it clear in all our eyes, that this boy had us under some kind of spell. That we may just do just about anything for the male in front of us – like he was an alpha?

But I didn’t know how I had fallen under it. Although his beauty, yes, was undeniable, I wasn’t like the rest of the entranced. They were majorly teenage girls, so why had this ‘angel’ or prophet of, picked me for this torture, for this servitude, or whatever was to happen?

I’d learnt the boy’s name – Harry.

But I wasn’t clued in. I was taken to a damp room to dwell in my own solemnness and to miss his voice alone.

Of course, when I waltzed in there, happy as I could be, I did not expect to be taken my some blessed male. Yet I’d still not figured out the reason why, as of now?

So I did lay in my own solitude, the solitude that was myself and a dark, damp room, and a small metal bench.

What they wanted me for, I still did not know, and why I was the only male in that sea of females still astounded me.

And by my surroundings, it seemed that there would be no way of getting out.

Perhaps I was hearing things when I thought that I heard my ‘cell’ door open, and perhaps I was going crazy when I smelt the cologne of an angel.

But I was definitely not going psycho when I felt a hand vehemently grabbing my shoulder.

And I did not like at all that the man whom had grabbed me was of fierce nature – A balding, middle-aged man who kind of looked as though he could probably snap me like a twig.

So yeah, I followed him. I didn’t want my head being caved in by the man’s fist.

And I found myself in yet another prison. But there was indeed something I found in common with these prisons. And perhaps it was that they seemed prisons of my own mind. It seemed that all that was encaging me was not others, or stiff cool metal bars, but my own thoughts.

I watched as where I was standing simply filled with pictures of the angel, and then his voice began filling my ears. And with every syllable that he sung, I felt my ear drums vibrate and subsequently, my heart melt.

It was like Harry had filled me, he had become all that I was, he was all I could be anymore, even if that made absolutely no sense.

To sum it u in the end,  
We’ve got to stay friends,  
But I’ll always miss you,  
Forever missing kissing you

The lyrics and his voice, they always make me shiver and they did once again.

The words filled me, and I pictured the boy angel, kissing…

I pictured him doing what he was singing about, it was as though the music had a drug like the music was a drug.

I’m not sure whether any of this is making sense. The trance and the spell that he’d put me under, was like being drugged.

It’s not naturally the norm, of course at all, but I found that the situation I was in might – if I make it out alive – benefit my physical stamina greatly.

It’s like how every villain has their weakness, how everybody has their weakness, but we d, all the same, have strengths.

So somehow, I knew that in some way I would benefit from this ordeal.

Then again, I still didn’t know who it was that had me captive, or what it was that they’d slipped me. And then, there was also the fact that I had not consumed a thing whilst being in the cell.

What, maybe it was gas?

Okay, s maybe I am going crazy. This is what it is, just me going absolutely fucking crazy – yep, that’s me.

“Louis Tomlinson… are you a fan of mine?” It was an angel’s voice; it was the angel’s voice – THE ANGEL.

And his hair was just as I had seen it from afar – unruly curls, with no aim whatsoever. And his eyes were just like the pictures, that amazing emerald green that looked like it belonged in an animation – not in the life that I was living.

Again, that is still the reason to this day that I believe that Harry Styles was brought down from heaven, either as an angel or as a prophet of the angels. That’s what he belongs as. That’s his part in the world. It’s to send out god’s messages through song – through his lyrics.

And the messages lie there and they are the least bit subtle.

And I believe in every word that slips out of his mouth, believing it wither to be a message from god himself or some kind of prophecy.

That is the angel (or prophet) of love. That is he. This is he.

And he stands of what seems a height, twice my size – but of course he’s not/ He just seems as though he could overpower me easily, simply throw my around my back and hold it there.

“Indeed I am, Styles.” It seemed as though I was keeping my cool, or perhaps Harry could just easily keep his own cool, as to not show me losing mine.

But I did feel the heat in my cheeks, which meant they had gone all rosy, I was blushing.

“O, Louis, you’re cute when you do that. Please, call me master.”

And I looked at him with the confused glance that is just what I do when I’m… confused.

“Uh, Harry…” He was stepping closer to me, further into the cell.

“Call me master, you goddamn twat.” And for that, I did receive a backhanded slap across my right eye.

“Yes… master.”


End file.
